What Goes Around Comes Around
by Queen-of-the-Merry-Men
Summary: Adult Henry feels the need to talk to his mother after the first time his adoptive daughter tells him that he's not her father. A small angsty regalbeliever fic.


**_A/N: Here's an angsty little fic about the first time Henry's adoptive daughter says that he's not her father._**

* * *

At thirty four years old Henry Mills knew that he'd never fallen in love with anything quicker and harder than he had for his daughter.

He'd never planned to adopt. It hadn't been a goal or even a thought in his head at the time but the minute he'd laid eyes on her he knew. She would be his and he would be hers forever.

He'd only been twenty-three when he first met her mother. Barely out of college when they'd ran into each other but he easily became enraptured with her warm, honey-colored eyes and melodious laughter. Luisa had been her name and it was only on their third date that she'd first told him about her daughter. Naturally he'd been shocked and a little apprehensive but still undeterred. A few months later she'd finally let him meet her, her little Olivia. Dark chocolate eyes and chubby red cheeks, she'd wrapped her tiny finger around his and he knew there was no going back.

A week being a part of their lives taught him more about love than an entire lifetime of reading and writing about fairy tales.

Twelve years and a wedding later they'd still been blissful. He truly thought that he'd found his happily ever after. But of course he'd forgotten the most cardinal rule of life.

It's often more tragic than you expect.

A car crash stole Luisa away from them. One irreversible moment and suddenly he found himself standing over her casket, surrounded by family, his hand holding onto his daughter's.

It would only be the two of them from now on.

A fact that Olivia appeared to struggle with.

She missed her mother, that much was clear. And Henry tried as hard as he could to give her a safe place to grieve, a place with him but she'd pushed him away. They used to be so close but she wasn't talking to him anymore, she wasn't talking to anyone. Isolating herself from her friends and family. He made excuses for her and tried to give her space, but things came to a head one afternoon when he'd gotten a call from the school saying she'd never shown up. After hours of searching for her only for her to come home and walk past him as if nothing had ever happened he couldn't help it. He lost it.

Within seconds they'd enter a screaming match and before he'd even seen it coming she'd yelled the words he knew he'd never forget.

"WHAT DO YOU CARE?! YOU'RE NOT EVEN MY FATHER!"

It hits him like ice water, chilling him to the bone, paralyzing him in place. He sees the regret flash in her eyes but it flickered away before she turned from him and stomped into her room, leaving him rooted in the hallway. The slam of her door was the only thing that broke the silence.

He didn't know how long he stood there replaying the moment in his head. Every time he went over it in his mind it seemed to cut a little deeper. Next thing he knew he'd grabbed his jacket and was out the front door.

His mind was wandering but his feet knew exactly where they were going. They took him straight to the big white house with the iron gate, the same one where he'd grown up. He knocked and within seconds she'd opened the door.

His mother had aged well. There was changes of course – streaks of grey through her once raven hair, deep smile lines around her mouth – but the one thing that remained unchanged were her eyes. They were still the window to her soul, betraying every emotion she felt or tried to hide. And soon as she saw him they flickered with compassion.

They sat at the kitchen table and she'd poured them both a glass of her oldest scotch. ("You'll need the good stuff to get past this," she'd said.) She listened with a straight face as he told her all that happened, comfortingly rubbing his hand when he'd finally finished.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that, sweetheart," she said softly. Her eyes dropped down to the table for a moment. "I know how much that hurts."

She hadn't said it to shame him, he knows that, but the guilt still rises up in his chest. He remembers being ten years old so flippantly and casually telling her that she wasn't his mother. And he remembers the flash of hurt in her eyes every time he'd told her so. It'd happened more times than he's proud of. The knowledge that he'd ever made her feel the way he feels now makes his pain that much sharper.

"I'm sorry Mom," he softly apologizes. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like this."

She nods her head appreciatively but says nothing. Nearly thirty years later and the memory of those words still stung. But she'd never use them to shame him. Never.

"You know I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to point out the karma," said Henry, with a hint of smirk on his face.

She lets out a wry chuckle. "Henry Mills, if you think I will ever laugh at your pain you have greatly misjudged our relationship."

He shrugs his shoulders. "Wouldn't be the first time."

He takes another sip of his scotch and let out a sharp breath before speaking again. "I don't know… I just thought… I thought that because of how open we'd been with her about everything maybe she wouldn't ever see me… like I saw you."

"I know," sighed Regina.

He and Luisa had never lied to Olivia about her adoption. She knew that her biological father had died before she was born and she knew that Henry had officially adopted her when she was three years old. They'd always answered all her questions and made sure she knew where she came from. Even still she'd always called him Dad and he'd never wanted to be anything less for her. She was his daughter. Biology be damned.

"Honey, I know this cuts deep," said Regina. She'd had swords slash her chest that hadn't even come close. "But you can't take it personally. Trust me, I did and it did not end well."

"How can I not take it personally?" he stressed. "She told me I wasn't her father."

"It's not about you," she promised, shaking her head. "It's about her and what she's feeling. She's hurting…"

"I know that."

"And she's dealing with it the only way she knows how. By taking it out on the one person who, deep down, she knows won't leave," finished Regina. "Her mother's gone now and she's testing her footing, trying to see what's sturdy. She wants to know if you'll be there for her."

"I've been there her whole life. Shouldn't she know by now?"

Regina tilted her head at him. "Did you?"

 _Fair point_ , Henry silently conceded.

"Besides," said Regina, leaning back in her seat with a smirk, "She's a Mills girl. We're not exactly known for our emotional intelligence."

That was enough to wrestle a chuckle from him. He leaned back in his seat and shook his head. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Well," she said, "you have a child who doesn't know if you love them. Find a way to show her that you do."

They finish off their drinks before he leaves. He hugs her on the porch, promises to come by for Sunday dinner and finally starts to head home. It's not even dark by the time he gets back to his house. Olivia is still in her room, he can hear her moving around aside. He goes to open the door but it's locked.

He knocks. "Olivia?"

No response.

"Sweetheart, I know you're there. Can you please let me in so we can talk?"

Silence.

He let out an annoyed breath. Stubborn. Just like her mother.

"Fine, you don't have to talk. You can just listen." He leans against the wall and lets out a deep breath. "Look… I know how it feels to lose your anchor. To feel like everything's out of place and you're nowhere that you should be. I know how… alone that can make you feel. But you're not alone Olivia. You have me. And you always will. No matter what you do."

He hears the creak of her floorboards and knows she's by the door.

"You can lie and cheat, and steal. Sneak around. Hurt me, push me away. I will never go anywhere. Because whether you like it or not, believe it or not, I am your father. And that will never change. You don't have to love me, or like me, or even want me around but I will always be here for you. I'll never stop trying to reach you. I'll never stop trying to do right by you. You're my daughter and I know you might not be ready to talk to me… but I'll always be ready for the moment when you are."

He takes a deep breath. "You probably want to be alone right now and I'll respect that. But I promise I'll be out on the couch waiting for when you don't." He pauses before adding, "I love you."

He leaves then. Goes straight to the couch like he promised and waits. Doesn't even turn on the TV, he just sits there, waiting for her. The sky goes dark, it quickly becomes night and she still hasn't come out. Still he waits. It's getting late when his eyes finally shut and he drifts off to sleep. When he opens them again it's morning. Birds are chirping and he feels the familiar weight of her head against his shoulder. He finds her tucked into his side, sleeping next to him like she used to when she was little. She might not be ready to talk yet but he hasn't lost her. A relieved breath escapes him as he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"Love you princess."

"Love you Dad."

* * *

 _ **I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a review!** _


End file.
